


Lucky Crescent Charm

by TheNightWatcher



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Super Dangan Ronpa 2, Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: As ghouls eat humans but 'I' used to be human???, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Developing Friendships, Ghouls, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mad Scientists, Past Child Abuse, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25374181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightWatcher/pseuds/TheNightWatcher
Summary: Life is unfulfilling and fickle, like a luck cycle. How unlucky, must I be, to die, and become a man-eating monster in a world of shinobi?(Displaced as Nagito Komaeda)!Ghoul! SI
Relationships: Mitsuki/Uzumaki Boruto, Original Character & Others
Comments: 22
Kudos: 51





	1. Not Quite There

**Author's Note:**

> beCAUSE IT SEEMS NO ONE ELSE IS DOING THIS YET???  
> GuYS, I want to read Boruto SIs!! hEYY!!  
> There's so *many* for Naruto but not Boruto?  
> My fellow writers, I'm waiting for you. ;;
> 
> Anyways, I hope you stick around and tell me what you liked!
> 
> I really love SIs!

Straight jackets are likely more comfortable than being strapped to a table with lights brighter than hell itself beaming down twenty-four-seven.

Moving is impossible with the number of metallic straps holding child ankles and limbs. Furthermore, my mouth had been covered with a metal muzzle. If I were still sickly and asthmatic, I likely would've suffocated and died long before those scientists in sickening white coats arrived to draw blood. Forced to breathe through the nose is odd. How did healthy people do it?

Unless they can't? I wouldn't know, no longer being human and all. Normal humans don't bite chunks out of people for trying to take blood nor have 'Crazy Eyes' as the scientists proclaimed.

 _Greetings,_ I muse to myself as the bright lights above don't bother flickering. Diverting attention from the annoying brightness, my reflection in the metallic restraint had become the new interesting norm. Fluffy white hair, pale olive eyes in the color spectrum of gray, and unhealthy pale skin. A little boy strapped and trapped against an uncomfortable table with equally horrible lights burning into retinas. _My name is Nagito Komaeda._

A pause recognizes the buzz of silence in bored ears.

 _Except, I'm not._ I wasn't Japanese. I never had pale skin. I'm not ten years old either. Lastly, I was never a boy. _Isn't that unlucky of me?_ Reduced to thinking to myself, time dragged on.

Air is cut as doors slide open. My cage has been unlocked.

There's no reason to bother moving.

"Is that him?" A newbie questions, curiosity dripping off her voice.

"Yes. Number Four-Twenty-Eight." The man nearby confirms.

 _Actually, I'm Nagito Komaeda._ Not that they would hear words if I tried. This muzzle was both heavy and grating on mental health. I now understand why my dog foamed at the mouth when the veterinarian muzzled him. _Although you Fricks never listen to me._ Human experimentation is just another branch of slavery.

"Such a small child…" She whispers.

 _Hey._ Pity? _Hey, that's pity, isn't it?_ Calm down, me. _If you're so sad, could you get this muzzle off me? And maybe these straps?_ Bubbling excitement dances through the veins as memories cloud into imagination. There are many things I want to do. _I'll leave you alone if you do._ The woman's eyes seem to soften at my hazy look.

Huh. Huh. Huh. Huh. Huh? If only she came alone.

"Don't. It nearly killed three of my coworkers." Her coworker scoffs, revealing my first day in this strange place. "Simple blood test. It had a tantrum and ripped a chunk of flesh from Ren's neck." He explains, and I'm drifting again.

The _taste._ The _taste_ from that chunk was _savory._ It shouldn't have, not really, and I made sure to spit it out when everything registered. The experience had been both terrifying and exhilarating. Tastebuds had relished in quenching thirst. Teeth had chattered shut from shock and interest! Limbs trembled as the desire for _more_ grew within those seconds the other scientists dove for a panic button.

It's all in the past. I wasn't a monster before, but I was now. I _was_ and everyone who came here knew it.

"Why? He looks...I'll admit, he looks a bit strange but this is still a young boy." She protests, and I wonder if this woman had children of her own.

 _Hello._ My eyes lock with hers. A beautiful violet. Lively and wonderful to look at. _My name is somehow Nagito Komaeda._

The female scientist does not reply.

"This creature isn't human. You should treat it as such." Cold as his love life, he walks up to my table. It's difficult to see him correctly under these _lights._ These horrible, horrible, lights. "Normal weapons and needles don't injure it. We have to use chakra infused tools to operate." The information passed so easily...Do they have it somewhere?

"Did we feed…" She pauses, hesitant. "Did we feed it? Otherwise, it'll go into shock fairly quickly."

Her change of pronouns drove a stake of disappointment without my change of expression.

 _Damn, it's too late for her._ If they take the first step to dehumanize me then...Ah, whatever! She'll simply be another name on my hit-list!

"We don't know what it eats. We delivered sandwiches but it only touched the water. The sub was ripped to shreds like a mockery. The possibility remains it only needs water to survive. We're still looking into the situation." The man explains swiftly.

Of course, I _wouldn't_ touch the sandwich. They were trying to feed me _poison._ It had tasted _horrible._ Ah...That overwhelming feeling is drowning my thoughts. _Hi there._ The lady had never looked away. _Call me Nagito Komaeda._

"I...I see." She finally glances elsewhere.

"Here. Get the chair and inform the others. Let's get started." The male scientist redirects her out of the room, and I'm left alone with the man. He strolls up to the table with disdain and hints of malice behind onix hues.

The lights are bright. I am uncomfortable, and the noise of another introduction is proven improper. The muzzle is the issue. His hand is placed on my forehead, warm.

"Today, we finally cut you open." He announces, and I stare, stare, _stare_ at him. "Monster." The man spits calmly.

 _Monster, huh?_ Honestly, it stings but...Better than the derogatory slurs I've experienced in my old life. Most on skin color, others on gender.

The door slides open once more, and I shut eyes away to the lights and scientists walking into the room.

Quiet chatter reaches my ears. These people are talking about their day and what they want to do outside of work. Some are talking of coffee and others speak of their families. Someone jokes about their kid back home, and how they've just learned how to play the piano.

I dismiss them all as pointless voices, focused on the one man's "pleasant" atmosphere.

A deep inhale through the nose dictates a banked fate.

These sensitive organs detect the smell of tea. The smell of soap. A smell of paint. The scent of blood.

An old wound not quite decorated as tightly as it should be.

My formerly weak arm breaks free with renewed desperate strength. Several gasps echo in muffled ears. There's no point in hearing their surprise. A blur later and I'm in the air, muzzle ripped off along with a portion of my lower jaw. My lower face hurts but there are pressing more matters at large. The lights are shattered as I throw the metal piece upwards in my brief flight. Glass begins to rain as the room flickers into a dimmer setting.

Multiple eyes are wide as I smell terror underneath the faint smell of wondrous lifeblood. Gravity pulls me down to destiny.

I have no pity for enslavers.

 _I am Nagito Komaeda._ The first victim is the man who hated my existence. Fingers plunge into his eyes with a satisfying slosh. The room erupts in screams as I allow the scent of a new injury to overtake budding senses into madness. I've been holding this feeling under wraps for several weeks. For the first time, I gave in and finally let loose.

_And I'm starving._


	2. Blood "Bath"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warm water is normally taken for granted.
> 
> And yet, when you're distracted, you can't even feel it.
> 
> [Heed the tag warnings.]

The world felt fuzzy, like awakening after a brief dream.

I shook it off, used to escaping the temperaments of the mind after strain. The fuzz began to reside as I blink hard and expel the feeling through willpower and a racing heart. This same method is used to awaken when nightmares hit late into the night. Feeling returns, a suspicious lump of bloating serving as a grounded reality as I took a breath of fresh air.

Somehow, I had gotten outside. This was a small village above the lab. Silent and vacant. I hadn't known such a place had existed. Although, perhaps it would make sense. The scientists needed a place to rest and relax as normal people did after work.

...It's odd, to be able to breathe without a hint of malfunction.

The red coating arms, fingers and my healed jaw should be noted. A finger leaves into my mouth as I peer over the sight of a stained settlement. The taste of a sugary syrup nearly distracts me from the mess. Blood splatters, gore, and a couple of stiff bodies laid around the area. Everyone had either left or died. I sincerely hoped not a single one of those scientists nor witnesses got away.

It wasn't a mystery, who did this. Rain had passed through but not enough to wipe away most of the mess. There was a nearby well, and I strolled over to it on unsteady legs. Little boy hands grab onto the concrete stone as I lift myself to peer into the near-full water source. There's a reflection staring back at me.

"My name," Breathe in, then out. Glorious oxygen granted. "Is Nagito Komaeda."

Fluffy white hair matted with blood. Thin and frail limbs. Black eyes with red swirls for irises.

_And I'm a ghoul._

The water is cold when I jump in.

I cannot swim but there is a rope connected to a bucket. Using such leverage, I use a hand to hold on. The other limb rips off a considerate piece of my Lab-Rat gown and begins to furiously scrub at the filth. The water is swiftly decorated pink to red but the harsh bath does not cease for a while longer. The desire to rid myself of this is quite strong. To rid oneself of the marks and stains from disgusting people. Who would want their blood staining them?

I should be freaking out about this situation. I should be sobbing in loss.

However, as a child, I was always peculiar. Said my mother, as she always told me to keep my crazy opinions to myself.

And as a younger child, I had been beaten for crying.

There had been a time I let this slip to a good friend, on a sunny day while walking home from school.

He stopped walking, stepped in front of me, and demanded:

_("Who the hell did that to you? That's child abuse!")_

I remember feeling hungry that day. School lunch had long left the stomach, and there would be not a hint of nutritious food at home. I wasn't sure how to tell him about my father, and how I severely disliked my parent. Instead, I smiled and grasped his hand in a tight squeeze. He was a good friend. Someone who looked after me for reasons dating back to elementary school.

He was _so_ angry. Another survivor of child abuse, it seemed.

 _("I'll be okay.")_ Is what I told him, and continued to live by that code long after we graduated high school.

Even though things are different. Even if _I myself_ am different.

This skin, this body, this voice, and everything that came with it.

Self-defense. Murder. Delusional tendencies.

I scrub and scrub, then rinse most of the gunk away. The water is still cold and uncomfortable.

_I'll be okay._

My eyes fade back to normal by the time I leave the water.

* * *

Several new scents indicate people came to investigate. Thankfully, I had already finished up the remaining bodies by leaving nothing notable, uneaten. This took two days.

Bones too can be eaten with rough chews and crunchy determination. My Caribbean mother taught me how to chew on chicken bones after all. The other parts I didn't want were devoured by nearby animals. This village was surrounded by trees and the biome of a forest. The animals in the form of carnivores took notice of me and fled with food between their teeth.

It seems they understand danger when they see it. I wouldn't harm them, however. I liked animals.

Smoke from the burning lab underground had likely attracted the...What?

 _Why are they running like that,_ Is the first thought that comes through my mind before I lean my head back and wail in sorrow for all that was lost. A child's cry is alarming to mostly anyone, especially in the middle of a deserted town with bloodied walls and grounds. It wasn't too difficult to cry. I merely think about all characters I empathize with video game stories then allow emotions to pour through. There was also the fact I forced on some poor villager's oversized clothing after shredding my suspicious attire from before. I could feel the coat's tag tickling my neck. It's uncomfortable enough to cause _real_ distress.

Basically, the scene was three adults running in my direction as I sat on the ground near a ruined house, tears falling without fail and a wide mouth releasing choked screams of fear. A terrified little boy stranded after a possible tragedy.

I choke and force hyperventilating breaths even as the four come closer. They halt a distance away, thinking twice.

As the 'scared child' I was, I covered my eyes with a squeak and whine. The previous tears had already dried and the fresh ones were warm dragging on cold.

"Hold on," Someone murmurs, a woman. "I...I got it. Let me talk to him." She was stiff judging by her voice. The serious type, no-nonsense but definitely the type to seek personal justice should the time arise.

 _My favorite._ Easy, easy. I can't become too excited.

"He could lash out." The man next to her says, curt and watching.

I don't dare peek at them. Instead, I shudder and attempt to look small. It's not difficult with a body like this. Did Nagito always look so pitiful? No wonder he grew up to be such an expert manipulator. Everyone could feel sorry for him if they didn't know his true motives.

"You doubting me?" She accuses, swift, and confident.

"No. Just a warning."

Patience thins but I hang on. _Smart but unneeded. Send her here._

The woman seems to huff. "Good. Remain on standby." And with that, a gust of wind later, and I could feel her presence in front of me. She's close, too close, and I could hear her heartbeat if the wind could simply shut up for a minute.

I say nothing, only shiver to gather the last ounce of pity I could get from her.

"Hey…" She greets, and I force a jolt. "We're not going to hurt you, Kid." Her voice is soft yet firm. Confidence comes off her in waves. She's either a professional or very good at her work.

"W-Who are you?" A roll of the throat releases a whimper, the tremble of my child's voice a tender boyish harp string.

"I'm Mirai." She gently introduces herself. "You're safe now. What happened here?"

Jokes on her, if Mirai and her group had come days earlier, I would've panicked and failed to lie. Either I had been lucky or this was some kind of coincidence.

"I-I don't know," Oh, she's frowning. Haha. I could sense it from the silence given. "I was told to hide when everyone started screaming...S-Something about a monster?" Me, of course. The one who slaughtered and ate everyone here. I'm a bit cross about how it happened but at the end of the day, _I wanted to live._

"Where did you hide?" Mirai presses, although gently. She doesn't force me to look up, so I get to hide my trembling smile behind sleeves and arms.

"T-The Well…"

I don't need to lift my head to know she gestured for someone to check the truth of this odd story.

"There's blood in there." One of her coworkers admits, far too loud.

Cue the normal reaction of PTSD.

I shriek, hiding deeper into my oversized clothes and whimpering apologies about how I shouldn't be the one standing here. Where is everyone else? Where is- _Ah no, let's not lay it on too thick._ What happened when I hid and are there others? Where...Where…

"He's panicking," Someone mutters under stressed cries and increasingly loud wails.

"It's grief." Mirai mumbles. "Not surprising-I don't want to knock him out. Hey. Hey kid, what's your name? It'll...You'll be safe now." Good for her. Telling a child of a massacre it'll be okay-It would never be fine. Don't lie to him. Good, good, I can respect you a bit.

I fix my face, sit up, and sniffle. Finally exposing a face worthy to be seen, one of sorrow and exhaustion. I catch sight of tinted, red-colored eyes.

I stare at Mirai, her black hair completing her scarlet red hues for eyes.

 _Like me,_ The fondness comes full force, and it takes a minute for me to realize I'm staring. _But not._

Breathe in. Breathe out.

"I'm...My name is Nagito. Nagito." I repeat, the last name absent due to shock on their part, and want of no suspicion for myself.

Mirai smiles and holds out a hand. I put my hand in hers, adult fingers curling around mine. Her hand is huge compared to this little boy's palm and fingers. It's almost hilarious and I found myself interested in the unique experience of a warm hand engulfing my own. Regardless, Mirai didn't shun me her outward warmth of relief.

"It's nice to meet you, Nagito. Hang on, we'll get you somewhere safer. I promise, as a shinobi from the Hidden Leaf." She promises, and I faintly think, I won't be forgetting her anytime soon.

Let it be for her striking red eyes, or the fact Mirai just admitted she was a shinobi. Considering the strange _familiar_ meme way of running, internal gears had turned. Circumstances clicked as the place _Hidden Leaf_ comes to mind from a certain anime.

And that's when I realized life is about to get a _lot_ harder.


	3. Into The Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Free travel, and a realization.

Mirai was sincerely a good person. She was giving me a piggy-back ride the entire trip to the Hidden Leaf. It had been decided once the group took notice she was the only one I was remotely comfortable with. Not that I didn't purposely do this. These people simply made the assumption I trusted her.

"H-Hey, could you um...Um…" To play the 'shy kid' isn't much of a challenge. I used to be naturally shy back in middle school. Nonetheless, as the environment comes as a blur and the team moves quickly, Mirai didn't hesitate to reply.

"Jump a bit higher?" The woman muses, and _man_ it must be nice to be so tall and fit. "I can't accidentally give ourselves away to wandering bandits. Sorry." She reasons, and if I were some kind of a brat, I'd protest.

However, she had humored me for a little, and that was enough.

"Okay." I simply replied, and Mirai seems to smile despite the fact I couldn't see her face while on her back.

"You're a little mature, aren't you, Nagito?" Mirai tells me in approval.

I hum happily, taking in the feel of wind running through fluffy hair as I lean against her. Like this, I'm free to relax. Enjoy the short break, rest, and leave the moving to Mirai. We've been moving for a while but we'd arrive soon. I'm _almost_ looking forward to the future.

With all this free time, I had taken the time to re-think about my situation.

Ghouls survived in human society by either Option A or Option B. Option A is to live recklessly and go on a rampage to gain power. Run around and eat as much as possible, what you want, when you want. This was the most dangerous route. Ninjas in _Naruto_ aren't meant to be messed with. As someone who watched the show when young, attention is the _most_ cause for trouble.

Worse, I could attract Orochi- _Fricking_ -Maru and anyone who had watched Naruto shudder at the mention of him. I'll avoid the Crazy Snake at all costs. Forever and always, there's no reason to _ever_ interact with trash who'd be so eager to figure out how ghouls tick. The Hokage's and their shinobi are spine-chilling but mad scientists are _lunatics_ in disguise. I want nothing to do with either of them.

Option B was to lay low and find already deceased victims. The best way wasn't supposed to be easy. Ghouls feed once every two weeks to a month. I may need to eat a little more due to my size. Children need growing nutrients. They also need necessities...Wait where exactly am I going to end up? And will they search my brain for information? I didn't have a death wish! I don't want to be tortured, holy _frick_ they'll execute me! Electrocute me to a crisp, burn me to death, crush me with-!

"You doing okay, Nagito?"

Resisting the urge to stiffen, I mumble non-coherent words.

"Ah. Just wanted to let you know we're here." Mirai gently replies, and I lift my head. "Welcome to our village, Nagito."

It was early afternoon, and the gates scream _new_ and perhaps gutsy. Not unlike the dusty, cracked wall back when Naruto was in its early seasons. The guards were perked and alert, nodding to Mirai, who nodded right back. Their shinobi plates gleamed in the sunlight. One of the guards made gestures to open the large gate.

The barrier sluggishly opens, and a town is revealed.

 _That,_ Does anyone recognize the feeling of taking an exam and blanking on the first question? Those buildings and concrete. A cross of modern buildings and old alike. Colorful houses based on faraway villages. Large skyscrapers which likely stank of papers, pen, and office work? _That looks nothing like the village I know._

I hid behind Mirai's back. There's a pit forming below the heart, gripping, tickling. Plans are never known to survive reality but _this._

_I don't recognize any of this!_

To be thrown from any type of control so _easily_ is bothersome. Recovery is possible but...I can't look. I feel like everything I've ever known was a _lie._ What happened to the beautiful Naruto aesthetics? The classic old era of chakra and old tools? My childhood feels ruined. I had been terrified before but _now?_ Pure horror, looking hurts!

"We're almost there, okay, Nagito?" Mirai assures, and I don't reply. "This place we're going to...It's a good place." Her voice quiets several tones. "Probably." Not something she should say, but I'm certain I wasn't meant to hear it.

* * *

Oh _shit._ Oh _shit._ Heartbeat racing, fingers trembling. I don't let go of Mirai's side. She had been the one to personally deliver me to Konoha's orphanage. And while I was quite content with this, I hadn't expected to see a familiar Not-Welcome face. There had been a reason to run at that point but these two could easily catch me.

As for this headmaster of the orphanage: Those pale yellow eyes and paler skin may be different but I know those circular glasses and 'soft' grin from the countless episodes I've watched!

"It's nice to meet you," Kabuto, one of Orochimaru loyal lackeys, speaks to me, quietly and welcoming. As if he hadn't been involved in a large shinobi war. As if he hadn't acted like a spy for several episodes to gain trust and information. _As if_ he wasn't _related_ to countless experiments alongside his comrade. "I'm Kobuto Yakushi. Your new guardian for the time being. And your name?"

Bright lights. Suffocating walls. Metallic straps. All too fresh, all too open. Muffled words. Eyes of hate. Words of disgrace.

"I don't want to give my name to you." Is what leaves my mouth, curt, bitter. Mirai has jolted, reeling to look at the child who had swiftly switched personalities like a mask. "I don't like you at all. I'm telling you now so you know why I don't talk later." Fair warning.

Heed those words.

"Hey!" Mirai scolds but I don't dare waver. It's similar to being rude, front, and relentless. My mother had commonly given my back a hard slap for this. I rarely wielded to those actions regardless. "Kabuto isn't that bad. He looks scary but he's _fine."_ Mirai says, but there's no need to pay attention to someone who knows nothing.

Kabuto hadn't dropped his smile at all. "Mirai, your mission is over isn't it?" He invites a plan to separate us, the _Fricker._ "I can take care of him. Thank you for your hard work." Smooth and short, Kabuto offers a closed-eyed expression of content.

"Yeah…" She pries me off despite grappling child hands. "See ya, Kid," Mirai says and vanishes in a gust. Her mission was long done but it still hurt. She had left me in danger. The absence of an ally leaves chills as Kabuto hums.

The floors are clean. The windows are open. I inhale, then exhale. No blockage, no weights. The office room is open space but Kabuto's snake eyes had reopened. He's eying me but not in the way of knowing a brat. No, he was far more observant and such irked child hands into hiding behind my back.

"It's fine if you don't like me," Kabuto comments, picking up a pen at his desk. "Just as long as you get along with everyone else. I'm sure they'd love to talk with a new face." He continues with simple comments like these, kind, easygoing. "Do you want someone else to show you where everything is?" The snake-like man continued to offer, and acting out kindness as if he had the right to use it.

"No," I tell him, shuffling to the door. It's difficult but I turn the knob without trembling. One wrong move and I could end up back on the table. Strapped down with no second chance.

"And Nagito?" Kabuto calls.

The doorknob looks very shiny. I should collect doorknobs. There's no way door knobs talk or know my current name but I suppose _anything_ can happen, just like I've always said as a young girl doodling monsters on the walls. A file, I had a _file_ now, which meant missing information and questions.

"Your circumstances were quite burdensome." Kabuto isn't pressing forward. He isn't trying to use blackmail or any sketchy attempts. "You don't have to force yourself to talk to me, but I hope you'll find life anew in Konohagakure." The headmaster of the orphanage keeps his smile and atmosphere.

I wrench the door open, walk through, and kick it closed. The sharp ears of a ghoul can detect faint laughter. He had been amused by this show of hostility.

This enhanced heart of mine continues to wreck itself as exhausted eyes stare at the polished wood floors. Faint stings of the head indicate a possible switch of ghoul-eyes from 'human', and blinking hard is the only thing I could do to prevent a further leak of bloodlust. A headache is given for my troubles. Today had started nicely but now?

I was just...So _unlucky_.


	4. Observe and Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Familiar, but not.
> 
> Regardless, it's best to know your location.

Two days of Kabuto trying to get me to eat curry with everyone else, and a day of lecture is enough to push past any hesitation of exploring the "alien" village known as Konohagakure.

"I'm _leaving!"_ I announce in a rush, darting past Kabuto's office doors. He would've found a way to drag me back otherwise. The Snake Lackey is quite controlling, and I've found a couple of serpents resting next to potted plants in the halls. He had the orphanage place _bugged._ It had freaked me out back then, and causing a fuss created an equal disturbance which got me scolded in the first place.

Who the _heck_ wants to be scolded by one of your enemies? If I stay here much longer without fresh air I'll lose it; I want _out_. Away from Snake Number 2, away from his mini spies, away from the food... There are things to do, plans to perform, and better lives to have. I don't want to waste away here. Trapped. Unfulfilling. I'd rather test my luck in the open.

"Be sure to get back before it gets late!" Kabuto calls back as this small body of mine hauls outside with a reel of the leg.

Back before late...Ha. If it were up to me, I'd stay away forever. However, Kabuto is quite ruthless. He won't take runaways lightly. Either he'd hire a shinobi to capture me or do it himself. The latter is a lot more frightening. Not because of his status or abilities but because I won't hold back on him at all. Our fight would get lethal fast.

It has been three days since "Nagito" arrived in the _real different_ Hidden Leaf. I've also felt a twinge of peckish desire to have a snack.

A ghoul's idea of a snack is a finger, or three. The urge isn't quite easy to drown despite many memories of dismissing hunger pains late after school. To compare, it's as if I refused to drink water after wanting a sip during heavy exercise. Hunger shouldn't be bothering me so soon. Did something trigger the want, or was it because of 'Nagito Komada's' growing body and need for fresh nutrients?

Oh well, I'll figure it out as another day or two goes by.

The village had certainly _changed_ but the atmosphere holds a special note unique to Naruto itself. I could detect people jumping roofs, traveling in groups of three, or by themselves. These ears of mine also caught conversations about different lands like the Land of Water or even words about the Hokage.

Speaking of which-Since I've walked deeper into the Leaf, where is the famous mountain rock- _Oh!_

Found it! I suck at counting in my head, and so little fingers peek out of the baggy purple sweater I've been given since arriving at the orphanage.

 _One,_ Another finger goes up. _Two, three…_

A familiar face with spiky hair is carved on the rock.

I never finished the Naruto anime. And yet, for those years I watched, Naruto's dream had become mine along with other protagonists. To see a childhood "friend" imprinted on the rock as a sign of respect, knowing full-well Naruto had achieved what he had claimed long ago, sends a _spark._ A spark of pride, a spark of joy, and most certainly a flame of happiness throughout an observer.

 _Congratulations,_ A much younger me whispers deep within the core. She covers her eyes and _laughs_ uproariously while outside, boy fingers twitch. Countless episodes of bullying, struggles, blood, bonds, death, and work. _Naruto Uzumaki_ had become Hokage just like the kid said he would. I've basically watched him grow up, and _this_ was the result. He had crashed through the world and made the impact he always wanted to achieve.

Naruto Shippuden is long done then. A brand new era, perhaps of pe _ace_ -

 _No_. With what had just happened, not peace, but less war.

 _Congratulations!_ My reflection in the glass is of a lost child with shimmering astonishment. Pale olives burst with invisible starlights as legs move and I _leap_ onto a roof with little effort. There may have been gasps of surprise but the noise subsided as adrenaline swept over and led me across several other buildings with jumps and pounces. The roofs don't collapse despite how the sound of taps echoes in ghoul ears.

The wind is free, my legs are light. I don't break into a sweat no matter how fast I move.

The previous me would've never gotten to experience this.

One final jump and I grasp onto a bridge above the dirt roads. Definitely new, and my jump was sloppy with a hint of Reckless, but I tugged myself upwards and hopped onto the solid ground. With the fading rush, child's fingers rest on the bridge's edge as I lean backward. The support isn't comfortable but it keeps a small boy like Nagito Komaeda steady. Peering down at the passing citizens, their daily life is made apparent.

There are a lot more civilians than expected. Population growth, most likely.

 _Well,_ I muse, shifting from leg to leg with a tiny smile. _I guess I'll get myself a job._

Where there's population, there's business, and where there's a business...There's another shop doing poorly because of harsh competition.

And after two hours of walking around, I found a place which matched similar tastes.

After walking in, taking in the soft sound of a bell, an old woman looks up.

At least, she _smells_ of age. The woman looks fairly young but the scent of _experience_ and years stain the area. There's also the _wonderful_ familiar whiff of coffee. Working at a regular restaurant would cause my nose trouble. As would other jobs, so this would be the best bet. Coffee, water, those two were the main drinks ghouls could ingest without having to retch. Suspicions are best tossed out the door. Considering how dusty this cafe is...

"Hello!" I chirp, and her green eyes peer into olive ones. "Is this your cafe?" Voice polite, I echo a picture of child innocence. I'd imagine Nagito Komaeda must have done this often. He was a rich kid in his canon game. To speak with a fluid tone of friendly politeness isn't beyond him. To manage business partners, to swindle those who underestimated him...

"Maybe. A bit too old for you, child. Go elsewhere." Old and wise then. She was harsh, a bit rough around the edges.

The smile plastered will not fall so easily.

"Your business is in a bit of trouble, isn't it? Could it be from the fast-food chains nearby?" The agh- _use_ of new technology seems to bring both curses and joys.

I could've _sworn_ I saw a burger place on the way here. ...I forgot the name and it's not a place I'd visit anytime soon.

She's awarded three gold stars for not snapping at a ten-year-old child who's simply curious. Instead, her dirty look is scalding, and if I wasn't raised by harsh discipline standards, perhaps this new body of mine would've shuddered.

Children have a certain charm. This woman may not be too friendly with non-customers but determination wins out. Allowing the smile to become a lot more lucid, friendly, and dazzled with promise, Nagito Komaeda is a prime example of child content. "Can I help you around here? I have many ideas for drinks and desserts!" The menu in this dusty shop is a total of five items. Namely coffee and pancakes. "And I'm really good at cleaning, see?"

Well no, I'm actually a _horrible_ sweeper and the like. Nagito is the legendary clean-master, and I'm _supposed_ to be him.

"Who are you, child, to make unreasonable statements like this?" She mumbles, and I beam upwards, raising fingers and grins alike.

"I'm Nagito Komaeda! It's a pleasure to meet you!" In one hand, is a sheet of paper with basic instructions for several recipes. "Or in this case, it's 'I hope we get along'?"

The woman says nothing, snatches the paper and skims through the data. Her narrow eyes ascend as she takes a long look at her empty cafe. The Nameless owner gains several differing gleams regarding emotion deep past the shines of plain eyes. The air is stuffy, the vents need cleaning, and the floor could use a make-over.

Placing hands in baggy sweater pockets, the wait continues.

"...Call me 'Boss'." She finally says, quiet. Her grip on the paper tightens. "What are your conditions?" Oh, taking me seriously now? Was I not the 'Curious Brat' from minutes ago?

"There's a couple. Nothing too strict but one _might_ seem life-changing-"

"Name it." Boss disrupts, face impassive.

"Really?" Blink, blink, I rub at an eye. The swirl of victory crashes against my ribcage without warning. Control is difficult when it comes to being young. Worse, if you're a Luckster who gets too enthusiastic quickly. Breath in, breath out. Do not hyperventilate and definitely _do not drool._ Thankfully, my 'Future boss/work partner/' is more invested in the paper rather than the shuddering child down below.

"This is my Late Husband's cafe." Boss curtly replies. "I refuse to lose it. To those _pricks_ or anyone else."

Ah. So she's being hounded to pay.

"To think you believe in my skills," A giggle escapes dry lips. I'm a bit parched. "Shall I demonstrate a few of these drinks with you as my witness?" To seal the deal. You aren't getting away, Boss.

Ten minutes later, I sit with a hot cup of coffee, and Boss with a basic iced caramel latte.

Her lips thinned after the first sip. The half-milk, half-caramel ice juggle from the straw's movement.

"Like I said," Boss says. "Name your _requirements._ "

Nagito's smile feels natural to pose.

_Gladly._


	5. Acting Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It should be a little too early to feel this way.

Two weeks later, a bunch of screening and giving Kabuto the metaphorical finger, Boss and I walk out with approved adoption papers. There were many things to be bitter about and positives were hard to focus on. Challenges are always accepted. Even now, this twisted brain of mine recalls Kabuto's pleased look after questioning Boss about the entire adoption process.

He had no right to look relieved nor toss a smile my way in 'good luck.'

"What are you doing?" Boss questions, as I stretch the moment we're out the orphanage's doors for good.

"Enjoying freedom." Is the best answer to come up with. In truth, to exercise is to get rid of the pent-up outrage.

"Don't be dramatic."

"I don't expect a non-orphan to understand, Boss!" I chirp, and she tilts her head down with squinted eyes. Her hostility is showing. That's no good, this place was riddled in Snake Lackey's pets. I can't be thrown back into the system so soon!

"Listen, _Child,_ I won't be having any disrespectful helpers in my cafe." She warns curtly, deadly firm.

"No sir, I'm sorry sir!" Sulking was the right move because Boss softened up seconds later with a huff.

Hm?

"What are you going to do now?" She instigates conversation as we begin leaving the orphanage grounds. "The cafe needs tending to, however…" There isn't much time. She needs to start making money, and it's showing in her dim eyes of rightful flames. Her impatience won't go unnoticed.

"Shopping?" I request the money because a small Nagito Komaeda has the puppy eyes equivalent of a sickly dog on their last legs. The nurses in hospitals likely hadn't been able to resist his pleas for toys! If he were bold enough, anyways. "For the silicone ice trays." The cafe didn't have those yet. They were needed for the pleasing looks and capturing hearts.

Boss gave me a long look. "No toys, you have a little extra bit for lunch but that's it." She tells me as if I were somehow trying to swindle her.

A smile of glee doesn't seem to bother my new guardian. The woman ruffles my fluffy white hair with a hand. The sensation is odd, leaving a ghoul's core a tad lighter than usual.

"...Understood!"

* * *

Ahh, I'm hungry.

Here I am, lying face-up on a polished (new, metal and polished!) bench. Naruto fans would rage, wondering where the _heck_ did this type of material become easily used? When did technology skyrocket and _how?_ This bench should be scratchy and old wood, not brand new metal for long use. Also, is it possible to meet Naruto? Just once, for all fun and giggles. With luck as mine, the meeting can go either way. Now his _'understanding'_ toward a creature who eats humans to survive is another matter.

...Still hungry. I smell something good and for someone like me, _that_ isn't a good sign. Should I plug my nose? Ah, there, much better, moving on.

What self-preserving ghoul wants to risk anyone figuring them out in seconds? Especially the Hokage? I'm fairly certain execution is the only path left for a creature such as I.

"Sunny skies today, huh?" A man carrying heavy boxes sighs, alive. Breathing and healthy.

"What do you mean? It's good weather!" An old man laughs. "See? Even the young lad over there thinks so!"

No no, civilians. Keep walking about your life in silence, I am trying to distract myself.

"To be young and carefree again." The younger man huffs. "I'm a little jealous. He must be having a good dream to sleep so deeply."

Out of habit, fingers left the small nose. To breathe through the nose _and_ mouth is a privilege. One I indulge in without thinking several times a day. For a split second, I had forgotten why I had covered my nose. Scents climb in seconds later. Limbs gained prickly needles as teeth bit down to remain like the 'sleeping beauty' they thought the "Young Prince" to be.

"The charms of youngsters!" The fragile meat joyfully sings. I can hear his metal cane.

Fingers twitch, imagination drawing itself out in a sluggish slide. The elderly move so _slow._ Easy, _easy_ prey to hunt and eat. Ninja elders might be a handful but this civilian man wouldn't see it coming. I can smell the hard work of a farmer on his hands. Beans, dirt, corn. All disgusting but alluring to the actual feast under the skin, to be pried open like candy plastic.

 _I could make it painless._ Muscle memory screams so. A satisfying ASMR for the hungry. For the starving. For the young child who craved a meal because Kabuto had a nasty habit of making sure his new orphan count ate food like a _regular_ kid.

The curry had tasted like dentist fluoride with bits of cold metal ice for vegetables. Chunky and revolting and _horrible._ Ghouls can't...I had to empty it from my system later after Snake Lacky left to check on the others. The small reminder sends an empty stomach rolling. Aches, crippling craves, along with rippling gazes stuttered around this 'young' mind of mine.

Need. I _need_ proper food. And there were many options around. Plentiful, but no-no, rampaging will be bad. Each walking person was a target but no! I cannot attack recklessly. In fact. I should wait. Wait, wait, and wait for the right person! Nagito Komaeda is a living lucky clover, yes? Then he'll get lucky if I'm patient!

"Why are you drooling like that? It's disgusting. People sit there, you know." Someone foolishly comments, giving away their position to be foot-length nearby.

Limbs move in a blur within seconds, and the person under me cries out as fingers tighten and shove. Weakling, a child by the creak of bone and less-aged skin. Warm saliva becomes cold down the side of my chin as I inspect the volunteer. There won't be anyone coming for ten minutes. This entire pale kid set is full, packed, and ready for slaughter.

"Ouch, H-Hey!" Pale blues meet precious mirrors. His hair may be blond and magical, he goes several shades whiter in ashen fright.

Huh. Leaning close, I don't blink.

"Hey. Do I look scary?" Although, there's a guess as to why. Waiting is painful, but the desire for an answer is just as great as the beast shifting in my stomach. Fingers eagerly tap against the other child's warm skin. Soft. Easily torn. Rubber-like in possible terms of texture between the teeth. I should know. I had a taste before. "Can you hear me?" It's easy to dig nails into foreign clothing without consequence.

"I-I think it's too early for…" The blond boy weakly tries to speak but he's choked up. Disbelieving, quiet, and uncertain of this situation. "Contacts, right? Haha, the holidays are a bit..." His tone had been hopeful, a shaky smile.

A response cannot be uttered. I want to rip a chunk out of his neck. His hands are pinned and his legs are heavily put down by mine. Ah. My eyes. It's always the eyes, the same eyes which scared away Nagito Komaeda's classmates in his very world. The same eyes are known for madness and everything despair. How scary must these swirls be, to contain the colors of red and black, rather than the usual pale olive and normal whites?

"Inogin! Where _are_ you!" A high-pitched annoyance by the title of 'Companions' rages sensitive eardrums.

Bad luck. Bad luck, bad luck, _how is this happening?_ Right at the climax? Right when I was about to get a _bite?_

"Chubs!" 'Inogin' yells back, cold sweat present and drenched in the sour scent of distress.

Well. That was a cue to leave. Yes. _Yes, leave._ Remove yourself from the person...Leave...Let go of him.

It's difficult, but I manage to release the boy and reside several feet away with shaky feet.

There's no point in acting so I fast-walk away without hesitation. Inogin doesn't stop his Future-Murderer but I could feel his burning stare before turning the corner. My hand rubs the back of my neck. Over and over again as I blink to shut away the overwhelming urge to tear someone apart. To once again feel the fuzziness of letting go to the wave of yearning just under the fingers.

Food.

I need it.

_Tonight._


	6. Moon Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...It could've gone worse, perhaps.

Boss had given me a map of Konohagakure. I now know the locations of the hospitals, burial sites, and morgues of the village. Memorization was never strong for someone like me. A prime example would be spelling tests, as I would always fail those and flush exam papers down the toilet. As for these locations, I'll have to refresh my memory several times before it comes as second-hand knowledge upon waking up in the morning.

"My apologies, Doc but," One of the workers of this morgue drags out, hesitant.

"But?" The specialist presses, puzzled.

These two have been conversing for a while now. I want them to leave on their break. It's hard enough to stay in a dark cramped place for hours on end. At least the cold steel walls are seemingly soundproof, or else, the workers outside would've noticed the sound of a rumbling tummy and heavy breathing. This space wasn't _completely_ closed so I wouldn't suffocate. Also, terrible claustrophobia, and it certainly wasn't _mine._

"...What the Hell did you bring us for lunch?" Worker One ponders aloud, curious, also flabbergasted.

"I thought everyone might like burgers this time." The Specialist speaks sheepishly.

"There's _lemons_ in it." Worker One protests and an inhuman hungry mind sluggishly restarts.

When Nagito was very young, he had been kidnapped and his abductor stuffed him in a garbage bag. He had likely nearly suffocated from both the plastic walls and space. It's the only reasoning available when I accidentally locked myself in the Boss' closet and proceeded to break the door down using tremendous strength. The adrenaline had not been kind, and terror had gripped the core in all ways but physical.

I owe Boss about three hundred in damages.

And so this small cramped place? A refrigerator for the dead? It's difficult _not_ to panic, but the crippling wave does well to starve off the want of food _Food FOOD._

"What's wrong with trying something new? Let's just try it, and…"

 _Hurry up._ The brewing creature within scratches deeply on the stomach. It _aches._

"There's no way in hell I'm eating burgers around the bodies. It doesn't matter if it's nighttime. Let's go, but if this tanks, you're buying the _next_ meal." Worker One huffs, and storms off with the wrinkle of burger bags and fries.

"You got it! Let me just...Lock up!" The door shuts.

_Click._

Less than a second later, and a ghoul barrels out of the freezer with a whine stuck in a dried throat. I hack and wheeze, sliding to the floor with a throaty rasp. My innards are on fire from stress and all ears could hear is constant wheezing. The sound is yucky but familiar. As someone who formerly had lung issues, rasping and coughing was almost a comfort along with the freedom of open space.

That was _horrible._ Will I have to repeat this method?

Ah, but those people were amusing to listen to.

However, no, I don't want to risk the chance of habitual action. Lucky or not, chancing oneself more often than naught brings disaster.

The floor tiles are cold, I suck in a sluggish breath as legs finally decide to function.

With a trembling hand, fingers grab onto the handle of one of the freezers and pull.

It's not surprising to see a dead body as it should be. I felt numb to it, likely after knowing the deaths of several were on my hands already. What _was_ surprising, is this body has been here for a while. The smell is...Can something smell cold? It smells cold. The faint invisible barrier of cold steam is notable as well, as most cold treats are when a warm finger comes close.

"Popsicle." Is what leaves a drooling mouth, and a hand lifts to furiously wipe away possible evidence. There's a large rolled-up garbage bag back in sweater pockets. It's all too easy to slip open and flex the insides into a wide space.

How long does it take for a body to start smelling of heavy rot while frozen flesh melts back into its usual decay rate?

"Haah…" I'll just have to leave everyone's proximity before I find out. There are no windows in the basement, but there could be worse problems. The body is successfully bagged and thrown over little shoulders. The brute strength of a ghoul must be terrifying to most. Nagito would've never been able to lift someone so heavy, _and_ so easily, not even as an adult.

I leave out the door after closing the open freezers, then swiftly leave out the same way I came in.

The cameras (haha they _have_ those) are useless because of their blindspots. An upstairs window is taken into consideration for the final escape into the outside.

As soon as feet hit dirt ground, I start running and don't stop for anyone. As if caught in a trace, feet moved on instinct. Feet are light as each step taken provides an inch closer for a safe place to rest. To _eat._

Hunger pains attacked like swarms of bees. Teeth grit as I leap over a metallic surface to slide down a pole with swift feet and one hand.

On the way down, I catch sight of reflective metallic mirrors. My reflection is bright and shimmering due to the white hair, moonlight parading unwanted spotlight on Nagito's form. The wind is running through ears, past pale strands of hair. Black and red swirls twist and spin.

Ah. Ah-hah. I shouldn't be grinning.

Perhaps, I couldn't help it. A thief in the night, scooping low to steal one of the worst (but terribly valuable) treasures. A pirate desperate for monthly prizes, forced to suffer the harsh seas until the time of night to strike. The moonlight is bright and beautiful tonight. Under the nightlife, I know the perfect spot to hide. A place no one else will be, as observed in many episodes of Naruto in another life.

There's no need to pause as the ground finally slams into shoes and I begin to climb grass and dirt paths to a secluded area just ways a little outside of the Leaf Village's buildings and civilization.

There's a rocky path to the many Hokage Heads. This place never got an upgrade in security, not even with Naruto's meddling, huh?

After careful hopping, jumping, and cut-up fingers, I made it to the top. There was a slope straight enough for people to walk on, which I use as leverage to rest. For a moment, despite the pain of hunger and ache of madness, the wind is a pleasant breeze. My burning nose and all-seeing eyes dart to the shimmering lights of nightlife in Konohagakure.

The village looks...Nice from all the way over here.

Another rubbing twinge snaps attention back to the body-bag. I rip the plastic open and lift the body's arm to my mouth. Pale and frosty, just like _this_ new me.

Exhale, provide an ounce of heat...Bite. Bite, bite, _bite._

Cold. Cold, but edible. Like a frozen meat-dish slowly melting under the warmer natural climate. Ghoul's teeth are made for this, ripping and crunching frozen chunks of flesh. The red drips but it's either sluggish or frozen in riverets. The sound of chopped ice comes to mind as teeth shred and little fingers slam a frozen elbow onto a nearby stone to crack it further.

It's not a bad meal.

Metallic sweet, a smell of both wondrous appetizers and lure. As time passes, the pit within becomes smaller and smaller. A bearable ache, sluggishly becoming satisfied with the addition of swallowed eye-balls as salty gumballs and ripped human ears as easy plated slurps. Two crunches and another scent hits the nose. I immediately cease devouring parts of a liver, stuck frozen on the organ. Frosty red resides on the front of my hands as the mind races.

There's something else.

My nose intakes the background scents once more. Grass. Blood. Stingy flesh. A hint of medical alcohol.

 _...Witness._ Instincts hiss, body following the rage with a shudder.

Fingers slamming onto the ground, my head snaps up to meet a pair of golden yellows staring right back.

The clouds had blocked the moon in that second. I couldn't see them, and perhaps they couldn't quite see me. Only the eyes were visible.

Nonhuman. Golden irises with void slits.

Inhuman. Black and red, swirling, wobbling reds.

"What are you?" A mild, smooth voice inquires. This isn't stated in caution, nor riddled with revulsion. Just simple, faint curiosity. He isn't the littlest bit alarmed. Not threatened, nor guarded, only curious.

To be polite, I thickly swallow the chunk of bloody red resting by the throat. Mouth clear but stained red, I let loose Nagito's voice. An innocent chime followed by confusion.

"Me? Ah. Apparently a monster." To express this, I lick away lingering crystals of ice and scarlet.

"I see." He replies as if the answer truly made sense. Maybe it did.

...I want to kill him. He'll _tell._ I'll be killed once reported. A mission on the board to be carried out in S-class. This life isn't the best but I've already set parts up to live somewhat peacefully. I don't wish to die. I can run without worry about suffocating. I can jump high and punch things for hours before becoming winded. I can't die. This...Oddity. Can I take him?

In a brawl of monster vs monster, could I win?

"Are you going to kill me?" Is my question, because he's staring at the mess under little boy's hands.

"Do I have to?" The stranger lighty counters. "What are your intentions?"

The air has changed and so has the position of the clouds. A young boy in a yukata is exposed, skin pale as the moon and glowing eyes never changing. His posture is straight and relaxed.

An experienced fighter. I didn't hear his steps even with sensitive hearing a ghoul contains.

This was the Naruto world. Could he be some sort of ninja? An assassin, perhaps? There were many and multiple ages. Lying often would be inefficient and result in ugly consequences.

"To survive." Honesty can sway the heart. "And learning about people." Breathe in, sniff, breathe out. A small lie won't do much harm if it seems pointless.

"Do you eat anyone?" This question speaks of a favored party.

"...I deliberately do not target children, nor do I often hunt living people." And so, I chose a shot in the dark. Extra insurance, but a shot in the darkness.

It's difficult to observe a full-reaction, but he seemed content with my statement.

"What about you?" I decide to question, remaining deathly still.

"Me?" The young stranger inquires.

"Yes." I cut in, "You don't smell human." He lacked the unique scent. Something different, something I couldn't name, plus the added scent of hospital alcohol.

He paused and took a sniff at his sleeve. While those golden hues never left me, he continued to search for the designated smell.

...There are no words for his silliness. Granted, it's the most amusing sight this week.

I snicker, then giggle, then wheeze a laugh. He stops and I manage to recover with a shaking cough.

"I'm not." The young stranger decides to say. "Human, that is." He easily reveals, as if such wasn't quite an actively held secret.

Perhaps his words are dangerous. To be so open...And yet? "Huh. We're somewhat similar then." Would he kill someone who shares a background compared to his?

"Maybe." The stranger with gold says, calm.

I've made my decision. Let it be the fuel of loneliness or the drive to gain allies. Nagito twists for friendship, someone else curls for a comrade. "Hey. You're really funny. Can we talk again? If you don't tell anyone about me, that is." I don't flinch away from his unmoving gaze. "I want to live." Is what I declare, intent to defend, rising.

"Same time, same spot?" Is what he says instead, and I crush the butterfly wings of joy.

"Yeah..." I almost can't believe he accepted.

"Alright. Goodbye."

I don't get to say it back, he vanishes in a gust of wind. All that's left is me, and the half-eaten grub.

...Show off.

And yet, I'm buzzing with interest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments and for sticking around to read more!
> 
> Colleges are starting up again and I'm not sure how I'm going to continue until I get a hang of my new schedule-(Calculus II online? How does one even???)
> 
> But I'm happy people like this. Ha. Stay safe everyone and thanks for reading. I hope you all enjoyed this longer chapter!


	7. Open Sesame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The universe pulled a magic trick and I didn't even realize it.

Sunlight has never been my strong suit, even long before. The sun rays are too bright, burning both eyes and vision if I wanted to observe the white clouds. Ghoul eyes may be special, but they can't withstand the harsh beams of thousand-degree heat either. Using a hand to rub green dots away, I observe people as they pass by. People-watching had become a past-time after losing my humanity. It felt right, natural to observe and know thy enemy.

The Leaf Village seems to be bustling on its own. The village life resides with both life and casual normalcy as people and shinobi alike walk the dirt paths to wherever they wanted to go. To the burger spot not too far from here, or the train a distance away. There were other shops but I'd assume people would get food to eat at this hour, or rush to go elsewhere. It's all perfectly normal, and it's painful to watch.

How would the Leaf react, I wonder if they knew a man-eating monster was on the loose in their very town? One who crunched bones like they were feeble sticks, bit into flesh because the taste was addicting. A sick creature like that, wandering around town with the potential to slay hundreds of civilian innocents.

Would there be a manhunt?

...No, there's no way. I'm not that special.

"Nagito," I peered up, far too short to meet Boss' taller form and structure. "We're opening. Come on." She doesn't look at me, watching the crowds instead, gently brushing my weight over to the cafe's entrance. The red-brown doors are open and the window-frames are low enough to look through.

I allow the gentle nudges forward, catching red and black swirls in a nearby reflective window. I forced the urge down, pale olives once again present and plain.

"How's the hoodie?" Boss mumbles and shuts the door with a gentle chiming bell. I smell the refreshing waft of coffee as we enter. "It wasn't cheap." She tells me, but her tone isn't condescending.

"I like it." 'Nagito' smiles pleasantly. The green hoodie is normal shirt-wear, not at all matching what the older version of Komaeda wears, but it's the thought which counts. I had been throwing hints at her the past week. The desire for a hoodie, specifically a dark green one.

It's warm, comfortable, and easy to move around in. The size was one fit too big, and so the baggy-ness felt homely and loose. Lastly, the color was bold dark, hiding stains with the impression of black if hit with any kind of liquid. It was the perfect hoodie, and apparently it was quite the washable piece of cloth. I personally tested this with fruit punch.

"Thank you, Boss." Which I've said already, but saying thank you once more adds polite points.

"Uh-Huh." Boss murmurs. "Just know it's coming out of your paycheck."

I peer over at her. "...But you already give me so little."

Boss merely smiles, retreats to the door, and flips the sign to open.

I am not allowed to serve any drinks. 'Paycheck' meant allowance since I was far too young to take up an actual job but I was allowed to pitch in every now and then. It was amusing, going over the newer Leaf Village's laws. There had been quite a few changes, hadn't there? There were no more murderous ninja children, less young assassins…Although thinking back with the boy with golden eyes, my statements will now completely halt.

My current 'job' is to draw the drinks on the advertisement board. With chalk and eraser in hand, I sit at one of the tables closest to the counter and begin to draw with mint-green chalk. I specialize in adorable drawings, and it helps rid the edge off hunger.

Several people actually visit the shop. Boss holds it together, stern-faced and all, but I can smell the sweat of adrenaline off her.

"Excuse me, I saw the drawings...They're so cute! Can I have a green-tea latte?"

That's a good enough cue to ignore everyone's existence and draw like a good child.

"I'd like a caramel cappuccino, please." Another new customer pipes up.

The bell chimes once more. Conversation is muffled as concentration peaks. I hide behind an arm as I doodle classic cartoon stars. Someone is staring. I can feel their eyes but tilt away to avoid looking back. They're still piercing holes in the brain without trying. How annoying. I should deal with this bothersome person, and soon.

"Wow...He's so pretty." Sheer astonishment overrides caution.

"Himawari!" A woman scolds, and I glance at the little girl who was only three feet away.

She was a fellow hoodie-wearer, younger than me but holding the confidence of an all-seeing eagle.

"Yeah? He is?" Boss snorts in question, and the woman deeply apologizes for her daughter's behavior.

I stare into shiny blues, and the little girl stares right back.

"I am?" The words form, quiet.

"O-Oh, um, I," The little girl with a pair of face whiskers stutters, stress growing. She's panicking because of her mother's chiding words and apology nearby, but my stilled-form might be the true cause of this reaction. "I didn't...I…"

She didn't mean to make me uncomfortable.

"Thank you," I begin, smiling sweetly. "No one has ever called me pretty before. It's always handsome-I'm happy." Close the eyes, pause.

"I'm Himawari." The young girl blurts, eyes wide.

What? Did she just...Why? My eyes re-open, and thankfully I know they're still the same human-like eyes as they should be. Those sky-blue mirrors reflect patience and excitement. Hmm? "Nagito Komaeda, it's nice to meet you," I tell her in return.

"Can I see your drawings?" She slides into the seat across from me, and hesitantly, I shift the board to show the work. "You're really good!" Himawari gasps, "Please teach me!" She bows her head despite being in a classic seat.

"Himawari," Her mother sighs.

"Kaa-san!" Himawari calls back, "Can we visit here more?"

I await Boss' definite quip of 'Unless you buy something every time you come here, no.'

It never comes.

"...Sometimes, Himawari. If you're good." Her mother calmly replied like an expert.

"Wait for me, Nagito! I want to learn how to draw, too!" Himawari elaborates with a sharp nod. "You're going to teach me how to draw ice cubes and drinks, okay?!" Her words are fast, quick enough to rattle the brain. "We'll come again!" It was a promise, a rather bold one. The type bound to be kept and likely repeated should the need arise.

Himawari was terrifying.

Good thing her mother finally dragged her out of the store, although not without one last apology for the little girl's behavior.

After two leave, I turn to Boss. "Why didn't you tell her off? It's not like you're soft to kids," -Ouch? Did she just ruffle my head roughly? On purpose too, this sly guardian of mine. How cruel of her, she's lucky I favor her and this cafe.

"And insult the Hokage's kid? And his _wife_? No, Kid, I want to live." Boss delivers the line so smoothly, I thought she made a joke. However, people rarely make two jokes in a row, and in subtext.

Chalk scratches an unstable line into the board.


	8. Hand in Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming to terms requires a moment of silence.
> 
> Thankfully, it didn't have to happen alone.

Stress is an enemy of the mind, conquer of the heart.

The dirt wasn't anything special to think about, not the bugs, not the immense quiet of the nightlife going on a distance away in the Leaf Village. No, nothing was worth thinking about. I breathe, oxygen flows. I shudder, limbs shake with the muscles. White strands of hair tickle skin as I turn my head to the side to peer at the upward stars. Everything feels futile like the burning gases high above.

Nagito Komaeda merely exists, except he shouldn't, not in this world and _not_ in the _Boruto_ timeline.

There's so much wrong with being here, living here, that I wanted to curl up and think forever. Think, think, and _think_ until there was nothing else around me but both ruin and myself. As if my thought process could destroy the world, and then everything would be okay.

Nothing can hurt if you terminate it all. Sometimes, nothing can be better than anything.

"What are you doing?" A familiar voice. The one with gold hues had come at the designated time.

Should I say something? I should, most definitely.

"Trying to die." The first statement floating in the mind slips out. It's purely coincidental _this_ very thought slips, as such is something Nagito would likely say to a stranger under the moon.

"Really?" He sounded genuinely curious. I don't know whenever to laugh or hit him. The latter can likely have me killed, and so.

"No."

"Well, I don't care either way." He replies and takes the time to glance at the rock path down below. The Nameless stranger in a true-blue yukata seemed to either be listening for crickets or intruders.

"I never got your name," Might as well ask. He might be some important character, speaks part of my brain. Not that I know any of them except for Sarada and Boruto himself. I mean _who_ watched Boruto? I stopped watching Naruto fairly early, and next-generation shows are _horrendous_ in design."Call me," Real name? Code name? Nagito's codename in his worst years was…

Chained by the neck, mitten on a missing hand. He had allowed himself to be dragged around by his 'betters' and took to their very order. His classmates would treat him like dirt, and Nagito simply took it with a smile and grateful tears.

"Servant." The title feels like ash on the tongue. An intense betrayal to someone to at least the second degree. The urge to retract grows, gnaws, and bites from the inside. A raspy wheeze eases out from my mouth as fingers mindlessly twitch. Biting out each digit held its own appeal but I venomously held onto the desire to keep myself both sane _and_ safe regardless of who's thinking.

Me? Nagito? Neither?

"Mitsuki." Now named, Mitsuki delivers his name as if this piece of information did not concern him. His non-human eyes peer downward as red-black swirls observe from the ground.

I am ninety-eight percent certain that was his real name. As I've observed before, Mitsuki didn't seem to have the desire to lie. What a waste of a good rivalry by mysterious titles and poorly hidden disguises. Which was stupid, because Boruto or not, you needed to be at least _some_ type of secretive fool to survive. The idiocy with so great, any lingering feelings of self-hate died down to a fuzzy buzz.

"I guess you can call me Nagito Komaeda then," I mumble, curling into a tighter ball to hide the heat brushing over. He must be new to this. I don't have the heart to tell him, the poor fool. Are there deaths in Boruto? Is he one of the early ones? I've never heard of a Mituski, but then again I never gave the anime any time of day.

Not after the many bad reviews of Naruto fans, and definitely not after viewing scenes of Boruto hating on his Father.

Mitsuki doesn't blink. "Do I call you Servant or Komaeda?" He zones in on instead, and I wheeze a laugh.

"I suppose since I'm no longer a slave to both people and talent," The latter mention pangs the heart so perhaps such is a lie. "Komaeda works." As it has been for the past few weeks. The identity had stuck and so did pieces of personality.

"Is that where you came from?" Mitsuki questions and I dimly wonder if he came to get questions answered. He was genuinely interested in his questioning, I could hear it. The smooth lightness of his tone. Mitsuki wasn't obvious but even those odd golden eyes of his dictate pondering thought.

"Yes, and yes," A pause, memories buried in a place sometimes you cannot reach. "And a little bit of no. Mainly yes, I've escaped such times, and I'm _never_ ever going back, so please don't rat out my location to random people," No no, I have to be polite. Too forceful might instigate a defensive reaction. "Thank you." Good enough.

"I see." Is all Mitsuki says. He doesn't say anything more, and I take it as both a red flag and a sign to give up a few more tablets of information.

"You smell like rubbing alcohol." The truth comes first, this new nose never lies. "Did you come from a lab, too?"

He looks over to me, doesn't blink, not a single nod. Mitsuki only stares at the curled-up mess of a monster in the skin of a frail little boy. His golden eyes feel like intense lights in the dark, and it's easy to wonder if all it takes is a flick of his hand to dissect me.

"Did they hurt you, Mitsuki?" I wonder aloud because I had underestimated him. Perhaps the non-human being before me is secretive after all? "Did they cut you up," Little fingers dig into the grass and rip strands. "Shove needles wherever they wanted," Young, terribly young, the fellow before me was definitely younger than I, the black woman who underwent similar nightmares in the body of a frail child.

Mitsuki was younger than the person who Nagito grew to be. Both Nagito and I had reached the age of seventeen at _least_ before the world decided to chug repeated horrors without pause _._ This product of experimentation? Mitsuki? What did _he_ go through? It must be something. _Something,_ because regardless of this timeline being Boruto, whoever wrote this had to stay loyal to the lines of _Fucked Up_ Naruto used to be.

"And after they were done, leave you to lick your wounds?"

The experiments done at the lab provided a slither amount of anesthesia but most of the time; it wasn't enough. Not for ghouls, never for ghouls.

Those scientists realized this, when I broke out of restraints for the third time, and laced me with every drug they had to keep me under.

The only way to break out of such a haze of indescribable fuzz was to lose oneself to hunger.

Hunger, and a dash of rabbit-foot luck.

"No, I did not lick my wounds," Mitsuki disagrees, peering at his arm for a split-second as before straightening back to a neutral stance. "Does that work?" The question is sincere, genuine with an ounce of interest.

"It's an expression." Is the statement I go with, holding back the colorful bubbles bumping in the chest. A wheeze falls through chapped lips.

Mitsuki nods in understanding. There's a thoughtful twinkle to golden eyes as if he had just learned something new.

"Your previous location sounds troublesome." Mitsuki finally comments, and Nagito's little hands reach to the sky.

Fingers pinch to capture stars. Far too tiny and weak, not a single particle of gas is captured from light-years away. No matter how hard I wish it.

"It was. I feel better here, but I don't think those experiences will leave me." Possibly for the better. Living was a difficult sham. Experiences shape one's way of life and advice. The bitterness and resentment to survive fueled choice with a flame and a leaf. "Listening to someone like me rant," Another whistle of the lungs echoes. "Does that make either of us more human?"

Mitsuki peered back at the stars. He didn't answer but that was fine.

I didn't want an answer either. Numbly, hands drop back to the bed of grass.

For now, I wanted to watch the night sky. Let the worries bubble in the back and bask in the moonlight from above. Enjoy the second of allowed peace and freedom to stress while one could. There are many reasons to sit back and scream. To wither, to lose it, and go on an eating spree to live off of only instinct and desire to get stronger. Should the actual young Komaeda have been standing here, he might've done just that.

After all, Nagito Komaeda had already lost his family once. To lose his world would have shattered whatever was left of his ideals and desires. That would break him.

If...If Nagito _is_ somehow still here, then I'll respect him enough not to commit overly violent actions out of a tantrum.

Just this once.

Just...This once.

"I do not know how to be human." Mitsuki's words cut through in a wave of acceptance. "However," There's a pause, a true second of pondering as he doesn't look away from the moon. "I would like to learn...If it means I could get closer to the Sun." Another pause. "And not get burned." Mitsuki adds as if the consequence was an afterthought. Mitsuki was either reckless or determined to get what he wanted.

Why did it sound as if he meant this 'Sun' was a person? No, such was impossible.

"That sounds," Oh, my throat feels parched. "Like you have your hands full. I won't slow you down." If we continue to meet up, that is.

Mitsuki doesn't blink. "I don't think you'd be able to."

Ah, what a flex.

"Absolutely not!" Nagito's personality shines through with an ounce of irritation of the second spirit. The agreement is both honest and silky. "I'm a mere creature who's been far too busy trying to keep up with my hunger. I wouldn't go out of my way to bother you, don't worry." Fingers traced shapes into the grass. Thoughts dig and wriggle, and the urge to curl up tighter returns with a brush of layered rage.

"Hunger," Mitsuki repeats, the word light and puzzling. "Do you eat every day?" He questions as if these meetings meant free answers regardless of the content.

"No." There's no point in saying otherwise. "You?"

"I don't need to eat," Mitsuki informs, far too honest to be anything but fact.

The world pauses as white strands of hair whip in his direction. "You _don't?_ "

Mitsuki doesn't have to respond. I believe him, but I am also astounded. Regardless of grass stains, I sit up straighter and crawl forward with a star-struck expression. There's no stopping until I am right in front of him, kneeling on the grass and dirt. The position doesn't bother me for multiple reasons. Too many reasons, mainly on Nagito's part.

Little fingers dig back into the strands of grass as teeth clatter.

Golden eyes are piercing but I am braver than the pools of lethal melted gold.

"Teach me," I sharply breathe. Fingers scratched into the grass as if it were sandpaper. "The ways of holding back my hunger." The request came out to be an unstable plea.

Mitsuki tilts his head, just a little. "You believe I can?" He reasons in a semi-cheerful voice. "I don't see a reason to." Mitsuki ponders for a moment longer. "Your problem sounds bothersome. What do I get out of this?" The non-human wearing the two-blued yukata was somewhat polite at the very least.

Still, I had to throw something in. Appeasement, some type of reward this wise soul would want.

What _is_ it?

Brushing fallen grass stains off the knees, the formerly distraught me finally stands.

"Then, allow me, Servant, to serve you." Memories stretch and twist, the waist bends at an angle as a bow is performed. Hand on the chest and eyes forward, these eyes switch back to swirling red and black.

"No, thank you." Mitsuki swiftly rebukes with stiff shoulders, but I do not waver.

"I may be a monster, but I am still a master of blending in." The words are smooth, easy to carry in conversation as a persuasive wave. "Do you have friends, Mitsuki? And if you do, do they find you strange?" Press, press, and pinch, Nagito Komaeda had no qualms in sinking his claws into soft points of other people's lives. Whenever done knowingly or unknowingly, he had hurt many with simple mind games.

Mitsuki doesn't answer, damning himself to an answer either way.

"You want to cross that bridge of acceptance." This was merely a guess. Mitsuki had mentioned the 'Sun', could he mean an object or someone? A group of people, perhaps. "To be noticed and seen in a positive light." No movement, not a bad sign. "Considering the fact you don't need to eat human flesh to survive, you can certainly reach that step." I allowed a thin smile to form.

"I am not having trouble." Mitsuki says, and to these ears, it sounds almost like a white fib.

"Of course." I readily agree. "I'm just saying there's _more_ to be done."

Gambling with words is a very dangerous game. This can go either way, in multiple ways. Death from running the mouth too much, death by saying something inconsiderate, and the slim chance of surviving by twisted reasoning. This acquaintance wasn't to be messed with. Not mentally, not physically, my fighting skills were far too weak for that. And yet? I can't stop, the feeling digs and burrows under the skin, rushing in waves.

This must be the courage of an absent luckster with a knack for picking at the mind.

"Wouldn't you agree?" Leaning closer, this ghoul heart of mine should be racing as eyes meet and neither creature looks away. The heart sluggishly beats and there's a bitter taste on the tongue. A bitter, recurring taste that repeatedly tried to fill into the mouth. Swallowing down the salvia, my thin smile remained. "Mitsuki?"

He's not sweating, there's not even a tremble. The non-human in the yukata wasn't negatively fazed at all.

Instead, I smell the faint citrus of curiosity.

This was it, then.

Fingers outstretched in an invitation, a much more genuine smile falls on this young face.

Mitsuki looks carefully impassive by the gesture, and I tilt my head to non-verbally tell him what to do.

"Let this deal help build both of hopes, Mitsuki!" Not quite what I wanted to say, but the words had spilled out in a rush regardless. The millisecond of puzzlement swarming the mind vanishes at the addition of paler fingers.

…Under the shining stars, the shadows of the night, and this new bond, I'm glad to know we're in agreement.


End file.
